I have another physio appointment with Margo the Punisher this morning, and I’m not looking forward to it at all. I’ve been doing all my at-home exercises and trying to work on the parts of me that still function like they should—like doing sit-ups—but I still feel like absolute shit.

It’s been four days since Jessica and Phillip got back from their elopement in Fiji. Four days since I turned down Eric for dinner. And four days since I further alienated myself from my family. I haven’t really even seen them.

Other than binge watching shows on Netflix (thank fuck they finally started service in Dubreva), I had forced myself to walk around the palace gardens, which are huge. Yet, devastating to me is the fact that I can’t walk one loop around the landscape without needing to stop and ice my leg.

Pathetic.

So I’m not in the best spirits as I make my way down the steps to the limo. I’m wearing a pair of sweatpants, an old jumper, and a pair of sunglasses to hide my eyes. I’ll probably end up on the front page of a gossip magazine. PRINCE HENRY OF DUBREVA LOOKS LIKE SHIT.

I’d have to buy a copy just to see what else they’d say.

“Hey, Henry!”

I turn to see Eric jogging down to meet me. “Oh, hey,” I say, trying to be nonchalant. “What’s up?”

He hesitates. “I’ll take you to your physio appointment.”

“I’m fine,” I say, turning away from him. “I don’t want to be blindsided by another visitor I don’t want.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he says. “I thought he would help.”

“And like I said before, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not, Henry,” Eric says. “You’ve been this broody arsehole ever since the wreck. What happened to the hotshot arsehole I knew before the wreck?”

I turn to him, shooting daggers with my eyes. “Well, I kinda had my life flash before my eyes.”

He throws his hands up in defeat. “And this is now the life you want to live?”

“No,” I say, defensively. I run through all the reasons why I’m acting the way I am, but nothing concrete comes up. Instead, I just scowl. “You have no idea what this is like.”

Eric sighs. “No, I don’t. But I can’t help you if you won’t let me.” He gestures back to the palace.

I follow his gaze, then shrug. “That’s probably a good thing,” I say as I duck into the car. To my utter pleasure, I’m able to do it in one, swift motion, completely unlike the slow, stop-starting and grimacing that I have been doing when getting in and out of cars. It seems when I’m pissed off, I hurt less.

Eric leans in and looks at me. “You’ve got to give yourself time,” he says softly. “I know something like that changes you. But I miss the old Henry. We all do.”

I look at him, and all the fight leaves me. “I just need to figure this out for myself. I need to do things by myself again. Feel like a man again.”

A sly smile hits Eric’s lips. “Get yourself laid if you have to.”

I snicker. “Like anyone would want to have sex with me right now.”

Before he can say anything else, I shut the door, and I’m alone in the backseat. No valet, because I haven’t had one since before I moved to Australia. “Take me to the hospital,” I order, combing my hands through my hair.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the driver says, pulling away from the curb. I watch as Eric stares after the limo, his face pinched into a tight frown.

He’s worried about me. They all are. And I can’t seem to get myself to play nicely.

What the fuck is wrong with you, Henry?

I sigh and settle into my seat, closing my eyes and leaning back on the headrest. I haven’t been sleeping that well either. My dreams are filled with bad memories of the crash, and when I wake up, the pain is almost too much to bear. It’s like my body can keep it together for most of the day, until I lie down, and then it decides to hurt.

My fingers drum lightly on the cane. Nerves. I’m nervous. It’s not like I haven’t been going to physio for the last several weeks.

I watch as the streets of Dubreva pass me by. I remember running along these streets as a child with Eric, Phillip, and even Ferdie, my brother. Times were simpler then. We didn’t have to worry about the world caring what happened to us.

Unlike many of the touristy areas in Europe, Dubreva has managed to maintain a lot of its old charm. It makes me proud to be a part of this country. Many of the streets are still cobblestone, many of the buildings are the original buildings from the 1400s. Dubrevians that have been here for generations still have the same old shops, the same old traditional food, the same cafés.

Wait.

I sit up as the car passes by a street café. I immediately recognize Jessica as she’s facing the road. She’s laughing, looking like she’s having a great time, and I see the breakfast food laid out in front of her.

But it’s not her that I’m watching.

Cat.

Her back is to the road, so I only get a glimpse of her profile as we drive by. Her curly dark hair that I could run my hands through. Her petite frame that I remember wrapped around me. Her luscious lips that I still fantasize about kissing.

She’s back in Dubreva.

She’s here.

And it could be my last chance to redeem myself to her.

“Stop the car!” I tell the driver.

“What?” he asks, confused.

“NOW!” I demand, opening the door.

The driver is forced to pull over to a non-parking area, half-blocking one of the lanes of traffic. I hear the angry honks of the cars behind us, but I don’t care as I undo my seatbelt and slide out. I use my cane to cover the distance as fast as possible, barely noticing the pain in my leg.

She sees me too, as the angry horns have caused her to look in my direction. Her eyes fall on me, and I see them widen in…fear? No, it can’t be fear. If anything, it should be anger. After all, I was the one who had insulted her that night.

I didn’t know what it was like to be humble.

My heart thrums in my throat as I stop ten meters away from her, unable to take my eyes off her.

“Hi, Catherine,” I say to her, and the entire world narrows until it’s just the two of us looking at each other. We could have been two people together as the world ended, and I’d be glad that I spent my last moments with her.

I didn’t know she’d make me feel this way.

She looks up into my eyes, and then looks down at what I’m wearing, and…fuck, I realize that I look like a deranged homeless man. She bites her bottom lip, visibly gulping before offering a half-smile. “Hi, Henry. How is everything?”

“I’ve been better,” I say, trying to shake it off.

Jessica chuckles lightly, drawing both our attentions to her. I’d almost forgotten she’s even here. “He’s had a rough go of things, Cat,” she explains, stirring her latte.

Cat looks back at me, her eyebrows raised. “Rough?”

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes to mind. Nothing could really convey the personal hell I’ve been through for the last couple of months. The surgeries, the pain medicine, the sleepless nights.

I’m not a survivor. I’m undead at this point.

“It was touch and go there for a while,” I manage. “They didn’t know if I’d ever be able to walk again.”

I see the fear again in Cat’s eyes as she blinks furiously. “Well, I’m glad to see that you’re doing much better.”

I’m not doing any better. I want to tell her that. That I’ve been lost and I don’t know who I am anymore.

But she knows who she is and her role in the world. She made that abundantly clear the morning after we slept together, and I haven’t been able to forgive myself since. It’s why I haven’t tried calling her. After all, what would she want with a guy like me?

But watching her here, I feel that pull that put me into her orbit that night. I’m stuck in her gravity well, and I can’t get out. I don’t want to, either.

“How long are you here?” I ask.

I see the flush in her cheeks and she licks her lips nervously as her eyes flick to Jessica. “At least a week,” she says.

I want to ask her why she’s here. How long she’s been here. If there’s any way I could take her out to dinner and tell her everything. All those. Because Fate brought her back to me.

“Your Highness!” I grimace as I turn to see my driver hailing me down. “You’re going to be late for your physio appointment.”

I could very well tell Margo to fuck off, that I have more important things to do, but I hesitate. I’d have to think about how to proceed from here, how I’d get Cat to look at me the way she did that night.

I have a week. I hope.

I look back at her. “Can we talk? Later?” I ask. I look at Jessica, and I know I want to talk to Cat in private.

Cat blinks in surprise. “Sure,” she says slowly. She looks at me dubiously.

I realize how creepy I’m being and how I ruined their breakfast. I want to stay longer, but this has to be handled better. So I just smile and nod, giving the two of them a small wave. “I’ll call you later on, then.”

I head back to the driver and the limo, and fuck me, I must have twanged my leg when I practically ran here, because my limp is far more pronounced than it was earlier. Now I’m thankful for my cane, because I can at least walk without falling.

Even with her eyes on me.

It’s not until I’m back in the passenger’s seat that I let out a slow breath and cover my eyes.

I’m such a fucking mess.